Imaginings
by hyacinthian
Summary: Imaginings of the naked mind is life painted without constricting binds. [GSR]


Title: Imaginings

Author: ScarlettMithruiel

Classification: A, R

Disclaimer: Not mine. You think I can afford 'em? But, please, feel free to chip in.

Author's Note: I'm in need of a happy ending, what with my angsty mood and all. Bah. I haven't had coffee in months. I feel gypped. **Spoilers **for Play With Fire.

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It was a dark and stormy night. Luckily, she happened to be indoors. She heard the sound of the raindrops, pounding against the rooftop with a loud and steady cadence. Her bones ached with fatigue and she imagined her bones just cracking underneath the weight of her skin and organs, one by one, giving to the weight they found too heavy. Of course, hyperboles were only allowed in theory and in English class. And she was not experimenting with either. She felt the heat of his gaze and it caused her to flare inside with an emotion she found undetectable. She sighed softly. This was almost like the physical reaction she received when she was in the morgue. The harsh glare of the fluorescent lights caused her skin to prickle slightly with goosebumps and she cursed herself for the weakness. Somewhere, she realized it was not her fault. But her mind needed something to focus on.

Later that night, when she had finished her case and doled quips on every one of her friends who was leaving, she had gone to the locker room herself. He had been there and she wasn't expecting that. Again, his startling gaze left her uneasy. _Not to mention a pile of mush._ It was almost comical, almost cliché. She had seen it in films before. The woman chased the man who didn't love her and later died. Tragic, tragic, tragic. Sob, sob, sob. His gaze finally dismantled her enough for her to adopt an irritated tone. "What!" She turned and flared at him, the energy just dancing around her in an aural haze. Somewhere in his mind, he smiled.

"Hm?" he replied. "Nothing." He realized his gazes had been somewhat inappropriate today. He was usually so subtle. Alas, a man cannot be in the presence of a Siren and be not drawn just a little. Not that she was a Siren. She resumed her trivial matters and took one long gaze in her locker.

She realized his eyes were still on her. Was his confusion just an act? She shook her head. These thoughts should not belong in her mind. She hated the thought that she was comparable to a schoolgirl, pining over a man who wouldn't love her. Hadn't she tried this? She had asked him out to dinner and he had rejected.

She realized now how large the hole in her soul was, how much she longed for him. All she wanted him to do was to cross the few feet between them and just touch her. She had been devoid of their carefree friendship for a period now and she wanted that cameraderie with him again. He was so aloof now. Moreso now than ever, she presumed. She watched him out of the corner of her eye. His gaze was still on her. She perceived now how piercing his gaze was, how passionately aflame, burning. It seemed like that flame could never die.

She wanted him to cross that space between them and capture her lips. She wanted to be captivated. She fluttered her eyes closed a second and smiled sadly. She shut the locker door, looped the combination lock through the open holes, and shut the lock. It clicked and she spun the wheel. She turned and acknowledged his present. "Night, Griss." He made a soft sound and she felt herself melting again. _I'm melting! Melting! Ah, you cursed man! Look what you've done! _She wanted to laugh. She wanted to feel young again…and not so…stressed.

He crossed over to her and swiftly planted his lips on hers. She emitted a muffled sound of surprise. Damn, she was _not _expecting that. His lips were firm against hers, and they pushed just the slightest bit. His tongue pushed against her lips and she was in such a state of shock that they just opened. His tongue explored her mouth and when the need for air overcame her, she pulled away, missing the feeling immediately. His forehead pressed gently against hers, and she heard his panting also. Were they both so heartened by this kiss?

A floorboard creaked and Sara sprang up in bed with a gasp. Her consciousness spoke first. _It was a dream. He didn't kiss you. You've never kissed the man you're in love with_. Tears sprang to her eyes and she crumpled on the bed miserably. She had to face the same dilemma again. She was in love with a man who didn't love her. She felt a hand lightly rubbing the small of her back. In the bleak dark of her room, a groggy voice rasped out, "You all right, honey?" She grinned.

"Yeah, Griss. I'm fine."


End file.
